


In-Between Times

by cedarcliffe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarcliffe/pseuds/cedarcliffe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Sam doesn't know what to do with his hands. Drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In-Between Times

Sometimes, Sam doesn't know what to do with his hands. Between cases, when there's no research to be done, the road stretches out ahead of them, endless and unchanging as they drive aimlessly to the next town, the next job, the next shit motel. He sits in the passenger seat of the impala and fiddles with the cuffs of his shirts, the hems of his coats, picks at the fray-edged holes in the knees of his pants. He traces their path on maps they don't follow. He rifles through Dean's cassette collection, ignoring his brother's demands to put the goddamn box back before he cracks one of the tapes with his giant, clumsy fuckin' paws, and Jesus Sam don't you have something more important to do?

But he doesn't. He really doesn't. Dean drums on the steering wheel, adjusting the radio as the channels fizz in and out, and all Sam can do is watch the dying grass flash past them or watch the sweat bead on his brother's brow. He knows very well which he prefers.

Sometimes, though, Sam knows exactly what to do with his hands. He uses them to capture the curve of Dean's hip and snakes them around the snag the back of his neck, fingers dipping and pressing into tender, electric places that make his brother alternately hiss and moan. He digs his nails into the pale stretch of his stomach, bared for him ( _only me, Dean, only me_ ) and licks hot and wet over the red crescents left behind, blowing lightly on damp skin to cool, to soothe. Dean shivers and catches at his hair, pulling him up to whisper against his lips.

"Sammy,  _Sam_ , oh  _god_ \--"

And Sam uses his hands to muffle those sounds, covers Dean's mouth until he feels Dean slicking over his palm, tasting him, until the needy little noises he makes can't be held in anymore. Then Sam ducks in to swallow them, pull them into his chest so he can keep them forever.

There's a fire between them that makes them strip away their clothes just so they can breathe, but as soon as they do the cold moves in like predawn frost on chrome and black steel, and they cling to one another, shivering. Their tongues tangle and fight.

One of them will win this, even though neither will lose.

It's a gamble every time.


End file.
